


Outside Influences

by TiffanyF



Series: Outside Influences [1]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-03
Packaged: 2017-11-28 03:58:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/670018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiffanyF/pseuds/TiffanyF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU fic where the sheriff is corrupt and someone is interested in catching him. Grissom and Nick get together and a case is solved. I don't own anyone but the federal agents so basically anything you recognize isn't mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that even though the name is the same, Tiffany isn't me. She's an original character from a novel set I've been working on for years, the same with her twin sister and anyone else associated with her department.
> 
> Yes, I do have fibromyalgia. I was born with it.

Dr. Gil Grissom was a man of many reputations; amongst them very competently running the night shift at the number two crime lab in the nation, a brilliant man, top-flight entomologist and very secretive man. He enjoyed his solitude and didn't see any reason to waste time talking about his personal life when they had work to do.

He walked into his office one night in September reading a case file about a recent double homicide that the sheriff was pushing to have solved. He turned on the lights and crossed to his desk, trying to puzzle out a piece of evidence that didn't fit. But he slowly because aware of someone studying him. Grissom lowered the folder and met a pair of ice blue eyes regarding him from a guest chair. The woman had long black hair pulled back at the sides accenting her high cheek bones and pale skin. She was dressed in a pale blue blouse, black jeans and cowboy boots. Grissom didn't see a visitor badge or any other form of identification.

"Dr. Grissom," said she softly, her voice low and melodic. "I need your help."


	2. Chapter 2

He was flummoxed. Grissom had absolutely no idea how this woman could have gained entrance to his office, let alone so far into the labs without some form of visible identification. He closed the folder and placed it carefully on the desk. "Not to be rude," said he, taking off his glasses, "but who are you?"

She smiled but it didn't reach her odd eyes. "My apologies, I'm Chief Tiffany Franks, head of the International Bureau of Investigation and, as I said, I need your help."

Grissom had heard rumors about a super-spy organization formed not long after the September 11th attacks but never anything to confirm or deny its actual existence. "Forgive my doubt," he said. "Do you have any kind of ID?"

Chief Franks handed him a wallet. Inside was a badge along with two different pieces of photo ID. He closed it and handed it back. "You'll excuse me for being so cautious. If I didn't recognize your name from an article several years ago, I would request fingerprints," he said calmly. "Normally the federal agents we get in here are introduced by our sheriff; like that special agent Culpepper."

"Former special agent," Tiffany said. "He mouthed off to the wrong person, namely me, and messed up in the field one too many times because of his ego. He's pushing papers in DC."

Grissom tried not to smile. "So what did our sheriff have to say when you met with him?" he asked.

She looked at him seriously. "Absolutely nothing because I didn't even try to approach him," she said. "You are the only person in Vegas I'm authorized to tell everything to. We've received some reports and complaints about him and I'm here to find out in they're true."

"So why me and my team?"

"For the simple reason that the day shift and most of the law enforcement personnel are in the sheriff's pocket," said Tiffany. "The cover story is I'm here for some help with a chemical analysis. My chief forensic scientist, Jake Garnet, sent along some substances that we believe will soon be used to recreate the WTC attacks on a larger and more deadly scale. I'm simply asking for your aid, I know you don't like or trust the feds, but I believe your boss is corrupt. Honestly, in the long run, that will only harm you and your lab. But you can kick me out and nothing more will happen. You have my word."

"I've never cared for politics," Grissom sighed. "And we're getting a lot of flack on a possible double homicide and it's a high profile case."

Tiffany nodded. "Then allow me to offer my aid," said she. "I'll put myself completely under your command. It's the least I can do considering you don't like feds in your office and I am asking you for a large favor."

"That's fair enough," Grissom said, impressed in spite of himself. "I think Nicky is planning to run out to the scene in a bit. I'll have him take you along."

She bent down and, to Grissom's surprise, picked up an ebony cane with a very life-like silver wolf handle. "And now, Dr. Grissom, let's get me printed. You need to be sure, after all."  
********************

Nick was a little surprised when Grissom asked him to take the stranger in the break room along to the crime scene but he didn't want to make Grissom mad or question him, especially not after the silk riddle. Nick still wasn't sure what that stupid thing proved but didn't want to ask and appear dumber than Grissom already thought he was.

"Right this way, ma'am," Nick said, holding the door.

The woman smiled. "Please, call me Tiffany," she said. "Anything else just makes me feel old."

"Were you briefed at all?" Nick asked, leading the way to his Tahoe.

"The two daughters of a fairly popular casino owner were found dead, murdered, in their beds two days ago," Tiffany replied. "There were no signs or forced entry, the alarm system was turned off, the rest of the family was unharmed and nothing was stolen. The dogs didn't react and no murder weapon has been located. Prior to the murder there was nothing out of the ordinary at home, school or casino. There are no leads."

Nick smiled, his deep brown eyes wrinkling. "It sounds like you memorized the folder," he said, pulling out into traffic. "So, do you have any ideas?"

"After the first twenty-four hours the likelihood of solving a homicide drops considerably," Tiffany said. "Also, while murder can be cold-blooded and heartless, it can also be done out of love. It's not unheard of for someone to commit murder so no one else can have the victim. It's akin to 'if I can't have them then no one will'. You see that a lot with celebrity stalkings."

"Are you a cop?" Nick asked.

"Juvenile narcotics and homicide," Tiffany replied, naming her old department. "So what are you doing tonight?"

He sighed. "We're all stuck so Gris asked me to re-walk the scene and talk with the family. We're just hoping for anything right now."

"A logical approach," Tiffany said. "You really like Dr. Grissom, don't you?"

A faint blush spread across Nick's strong face. "He's a complex man," he finally said. "We just can't figure him out. It's like an onion, you peel away one layer and there's three more he won't let anyone past." He paused and then muttered, "silk, silk, silk."

"What do cows drink?" commented Tiffany.

"You know it?"

"One of my old Captains was fond of that riddle," she said. "He used it to remind us that deception comes in every form not just visual. Who did you learn it from?"

"Gris; he told me it during my evaluation," Nick said. "I said milk and he was so disappointed. He says that's the reason he's holding me back. I just don't get it!"

"Have you talked with him?"

"No, I don't even know why I'm telling you."

Tiffany smiled. "Maybe because I'm willing to listen," she said. "If you don't mind some advice from a total stranger, talk to Dr. Grissom. If he doesn't know there's a problem he can't help you fix it."

"Maybe." Nick pulled to a stop in front of a large stone house and looked over at Tiffany. "Ready?"

"My least favorite part, dealing with a grieving family," sighed Tiffany. "I've done this too many times."

"Still has to be done," Nick said.

"That it does, but it doesn't mean it gets any easier." Picking up her cane, Tiffany followed Nick up the stairs to the large wooden doors.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I studied juvenile homicide in college and focused on abused kids who kill their parents. So some of the stats are from my class notes.

Catherine Willows finally managed to track Grissom down in his lab working on a project. "So, are you going to tell me who that woman you sent Nick out with is?"

"Tiffany Franks," Grissom replied, digging in a large box. "She needs our help with a project, but is also an expert on juvenile homicide, and offered her own aid so we won't be short handed. It seemed like a fair enough deal so I took her up on it. A fresh perspective on the case can only help."

"All right, so what's this special project?"

"Chemical analysis," Grissom said. "Normally I'd leave it for Greg but I rather like the lab the way it is. A number of these are extremely sensitive explosives and one wrong mix could do some serious damage."

"Gil, you're an entomologist," Catherine said. "You know about bugs, not bombs."

He looked at her over his glasses. "I'm well aware of my limitations; I've asked Greg to come help." He paused and peered at another bottle. "Don't you have a case you should be working on?"

"I just wanted to make sure Nick's okay."

"He'll be fine," Grissom said.  
********************

The large bedroom on the second floor had two twin beds both covered in baby pink sheets, comforters, and pillows. The walls were white with matching pink trim, pink curtains covered the three large windows and the floor was covered by a pink wall-to-wall carpet. Tiffany stood in the doorway and looked around. "How old were these girls?"

"Sixteen and twelve," Nick replied from behind her. "They must have remade the beds after we were done. I brought the pictures with me."

Tiffany carefully sat down and spread the pictures out around her in a semicircle. "This rug has been vacuumed today,"" she said. "Did you manage to determine a method of entry?"

"We found a ladder propped up against the window, there's the picture," Nick said. "But the indentations in the mud showed it hadn't been used and the window was closed. Warrick found three sets of prints in the garden he's been unable to match. There were no odd prints and not much trace or physical evidence."

"I can see where you're all puzzled," Tiffany said. "How were the girls killed?"

"Asphyxiation," Nick sighed. "But there were knife wounds."

"But none of them fatal," Tiffany commented, looking over the pictures. "My advice is to get a hold of the vacuum used in here if you guys didn't already run one through here. May I speak with the mother, please?"

Nick was puzzled and left the room. Tiffany shook her head and sighed. Political homicides were always the worst because of the pressure coming from above that made people try to rush to find answers. That's when the missed glaring facts. Dr. Grissom hadn't struck her as the type of man to cave under the pressure but his team probably didn't have his discipline. Still, she figured she had about five minutes alone in the scene.

"Tiffany Franks, this is Mrs. Harriet Miller," Nick said, coming back into the room seven minutes later. The 40-something woman seemed a little surprised to find an adult sitting on the floor.

"Answers can be anywhere," Tiffany said, picking up the pictures and putting them back in the folder. "Mrs. Miller, I am sorry for bothering you so soon after your horrible loss but I've just got a couple of questions."

"Anything to find out who did this," Mrs. Miller replied. She was a rather mousy woman with plan features and almost timid.

"Did your daughters ever want to redecorate their room?" Tiffany asked.

"What? No...they...they liked pink."

"Did the older of the girls, Heather, have a boyfriend?"

"No she didn't; we're a very close family and spent our evenings together," Mrs. Miller said.

Tiffany nodded, grabbed her cane and stood slowly, dropping the pictures. Two landed face up, the pictures showing the victims in their beds. "I'm sorry," Tiffany said. "I've been sick and my grip isn't what it used to be. I dropped a vase last week. I'm done here, Mr. Stokes."

Nick was even more puzzled but he nodded. "Mrs. Miller, would it be possible for me to get the bag from your vacuum? It might help us catch whoever did this."

"Of course."

Tiffany followed the pair down the long hall, taking careful note of the pictures hanging on the walls. The clues were starting to fall into place.


	4. Chapter 4

"Dr. Grissom, may I steal you a moment?" Tiffany asked, looking into the lab where Grissom was talking with a dark-haired woman.

"Sure," he replied. "Keep working on it, Sara, and I'll be back." He adjusted his walking pace to Tiffany's slower one. "Thank you."

She smiled. "A co-worker crush is no easy thing to live with," Tiffany said. "You look like a man in over his head."

"The sheriff called not long after you left with Nick wanting to know who you are and what you're dong on this case. I told him you were a juvenile consultant here at my personal request. That folder you left really came in handy." He shut the door to his office. "Now, what can I do for you?"

"Silk, silk, silk," Tiffany said as she sank into one of the chairs. "What do cows drink, Grissom?"

"Water," Grissom replied. "Why?"

"Because you have one very confused and hurt CSI trying to figure it out," Tiffany said. "I've been in command for a long time and I've learned to recognize when someone is about to give it all up."

"Why would Nicky quit?"

"He's fixated on that riddle trying to figure out why you're holding him back because he made the same mistake everyone makes when they first hear the damn thing," Tiffany said. "I'm not here to meddle but if Nick is willing to tell a perfect stranger about that, then he's upset."

Grissom nodded and sighed. "I'll talk to him when we're done here," he said. "Were you able to figure out anything about the crime scene?"

"Yes, the mother killed them," Tiffany said. She smiled at the stunned look on his face. "My twin sister, Lexxie, is a devotee of Sherlock Holmes and has been since we were kids in Scotland. Some of the techniques have rubbed off on me, I suppose. Do you have any tox screens from the victims?"

"That's what I was reading when you surprised me," he said. "There were high levels of sleeping pills in both girls, not enough to be fatal, but enough to keep them asleep for a while."

"Murder is by no means a quiet crime," Tiffany said. "The girls shared a room so someone had to make sure they would stay asleep, otherwise whoever was killed second could've awoken and identified and exposed the killer."

"But it doesn't mean the mother killed them."

"No, it doesn't, anyone could've given them the pills," Tiffany agreed. "But I imagine those pills were already in the house and not brought from outside."

"I'll have someone check," Grissom said. "What else?"

She held up the folder with the crime scene pictures. "Are you familiar with the drop test? You fix two pennies to the back of whatever photos you want to have land face up," she said. "I set up the pictures of the close-ups of the victims. Parents when confronted with pictures of their dead children will generally react one of two ways; they cry or there's no emotion. This one smiled."

"That's an interesting reaction," Grissom said. "What else?"

"The staging of the crime scene is obvious," Tiffany replied. "The mattresses were turned over before anyone called 911. I managed to get some swabs from the undersides of both for you; they're on your desk. And what you all seemed to miss was that there are no pictures of these two girls in the house. There were several empty places and frames but nothing of Heather and Kimberly. I'll concede that the grieving family couldn't bear to look at the pictures, but I reviewed the crime scene photos; the pictures on the walls are missing even then."

"Means, motive, and opportunity," Grissom muttered. "You've got two of them in your argument. What about motive?"

Tiffany sighed. "I'll need to review the interview transcripts to be sure, but I'm guessing someone was molesting these girls," she said. "I have two girls of my own, roughly the same ages, and they like pink. But we redecorated their rooms years ago to more 'mature' colors. The crime scene room looked like a nursery."

"You've given me some things to check on," Grissom said. "My files are yours, for this case and your own. Thank you."

"You're welcome, and..."

"I'll go find Nick," Grissom finished.  
********************

Accusations of murder were serous but even worse were the very words sexual molestation. Grissom met with Warrick and Sara to get them to start checking on the sleeping pills and staging of the crime scene. He also checked in with Doc Robbins to get him to collect rape kits on both girls to go to DNA as soon as possible.

"Nick?" Grissom asked, closing the door of his own lab behind him. "What are you doing in here?"

"Looking for you," Nick said. "The crime scene's been cleaned since we left but I managed to get the bag from the vacuum."

"Good work, Nicky," Grissom said. "What did you find?"

"It's what I'm not finding that's interesting." Nick handed Grissom a folder. "There's no indication that anyone who didn't belong was in that room."

Grissom closed his eyes and sighed. "It looks like Tiffany was right, but we won't know for sure until we get word from Greg. This is why I like to try and go to every political crime scene we receive. There's so much that was overlooked."

"What's going on, Grissom?" Nick asked. "And why the sudden consultant tagging along?"

"Nick?'

"Damn it, Gris, its bad enough you don't trust me to work a DB solo and everyone here knows it," Nick exploded. "But now you have to go telling complete strangers?"

"What do you think of her?" Grissom asked.

"Don't go avoiding the question!"

"I'm not, Nicky, I'm not," Grissom said. "But this isn't the place to talk. Can you wait two hours, please?"

Nick rolled his eyes. He couldn't stand it when Gil Grissom went all puppy dog eyed. "Sure, Gris," he said. "Tiffany's almost snobby, you know, stuck-up. And she keeps things to herself, not a team player at all."

"She's a pair of fresh eyes and I think she might have broken the case wide open because she lacked the preconceived notions we had," Grissom replied. "We're being pushed to solve this case and people under pressure make mistakes and overlook the obvious."

"Which is why pressure is a bad thing," Tiffany said from the doorway. "Dr. Grissom, I think I have your final two pieces of evidence."

"Uh, Tiffany," Nick said, blushing.

"I've been called worse," Tiffany said calmly. "Usually by my foster parents."

"You were abused," Grissom stated.

"Until I was sixteen and married," Tiffany said. "If you think I'm reserved then you should meet Lexxie. Why do you think I chose to work with children?"

"To help others as you weren't," Grissom said. "That answers a few more of my questions. What about the evidence?"

Tiffany handed Grissom a folder. "Miss Sidle interviewed the mother and I can't help but notice several questions that should have been red-flagged weren't."

"Which ones?" Nick looked over Grissom's shoulder.

"If there were any boyfriends. Notice that the mother told Miss Sidle there were two?" Tiffany asked. "I was told the family spent every evening together. Then the mother says three different times and people for whom and when the victims were found and not one of them match the 911 call. And the mother first claimed that she didn't hear anyone outside and then says she heard the ladder hit the building but didn't go to investigate it. Finally there was the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime."

"Sherlock Holmes," Grissom said, "The dog did nothing in the nighttime."

"And that was the curious incident. If there had been any stranger in the home or any disturbance outside, the dogs would have been barking. They didn't."

"The net grows smaller," Grissom said softly. "Nicky, will you go and impress on Greg how important that DNA analysis from Doc Robbins is to me, please? I'll meet you in my office at the end of shift and we'll talk; I promise."


	5. Chapter 5

Tiffany had been expecting a visit and was not the least bit disappointed when Sheriff Brian Mobley showed up at the CSI labs. "You must be this consultant," he said, leaning on the door frame to the lab where Tiffany was reviewing some folders.

"Yes sir, what can I do for you?"

"Aren't you a little young to be an expert?" he asked.

She raised an eyebrow. Tiffany was 38 and generally told she looked older than she saw. "We are what we are," said she finally. "I understand this investigation is a top priority and no time should be wasted."

"What are you implying?"

"Just that I could be reading these interviews rather than listening to you insult me," she said.

Mobley puffed up. "Look, that family happens to be close friends of mine and I want this case solved as much if not more than they do," he said. "And I don't like strangers coming into my labs insinuating that I'd waste time trying to solve a homicide, especially when children are involved."

Tiffany had to remind herself not to slip into command mode. She knew she could put the man down for the count with several well-placed words but it wouldn't fit into her character. "Have you spoken with anyone?" she asked instead.

"What?"

"You just said the family are close friends of yours," Tiffany said. "There's a possibility that you might know something about the homicides that can help us interpret the evidence."

He stepped back, directly into a pan of some sort on the floor. Tiffany looked over at the sudden noise, "that's where I left the blasted thing," said she. "Thank you, sheriff; I've been trying to figure out where it went."

"I don't know anything about the homicide," Mobley snarled and stormed out of the lab. Tiffany smiled.  
********************

When Grissom walked into the DNA lab he almost wished there was a dress code for the lab technicians. Greg Sanders was wearing what looked like a silk blue, orange and yellow swirled shirt, black jeans, white sneakers, his light blue lab coat and his hair was spiked.

"Do you have those results for me, Greg?" Grissom asked.

"Yeah but we're looking at a major yuck factor here," Greg replied, picking up a printout and handing it to his boss. "My run found two distinct profiles from each victim, one of them obviously parental, the other unknown at this time."

"All right, Greg, thank you," Grissom said. He took the printout and walked briskly to the lab he knew Tiffany was using. Grissom was growing concerned as there were other children in that house and it seemed like they might be in danger as well.

"Careful," Tiffany cautioned from the floor just inside the door. "Three steps left and then take a look at this."

"What is it?" Grissom asked. He put his paperwork on the desk and joined Tiffany by a machine of some kind.

She smiled almost wickedly. "It's a new toy Jake's been working on," Tiffany said. "Hopefully we'll be able to patent it within the year because it's really handy. The only problem is finding the damn things. Oh, here were go." A shoeprint suddenly glowed blue on the floor. "It's a type of invisible fingerprint ink that reacts with a plant light. Then all we have to do is take a picture and we have a nice piece of trace evidence."

"So who does that belong to?" Grissom asked, looking over the machine. "And how did they develop this?"

"I flunked chemistry so I don't understand the how," Tiffany smiled. "I just know how to use it and that it works. And this rather fine print is from your not so esteemed sheriff. It's hardly my fault he doesn't look where he's walking."

"That reminds me, I've got the results of the DNA analysis from the Miller girls," Grissom said, standing up.

"Let me guess, family match," Tiffany commented. She carried the machine over to a padded case.

"Along with an unknown," Grissom finished. "But we still don't have enough evidence for a warrant."

Tiffany sighed. "You've got an important meeting in fifteen minutes," she said. "But if you'll loan me Sara, we'll go interview their family doctor and school friends. There has to be more documentation somewhere."

"Absolutely," Grissom said. "I'm concerned about the other children in the house."

"All boys under the age of ten, right?"

"Right."

She sighed again. "My guess is they have a couple of years before they're at risk," said she. "Eleven is the statistical age for sexual abuse to start with boys; however, you're right to be concerned. I'll pull some strings and get them out of there today."


	6. Chapter 6

Nick had been nervous ever since his mini-blowup in Grissom's lab. He hadn't meant to let Gris know he was so upset about the apparent lack of trust between them but having Tiffany in the labs just seemed to make Nick madder. And the fact that she was so much like Grissom just made it worse. But now Nick was going to have to face his boss and tell him everything had had been going through his mind these past few weeks.

Oh man, how did he get into these messes? If he didn't know better, he'd swear Grissom was late on purpose but as he'd seen the man become totally enthralled by a light bulb test, Nick knew how easily distracted his boss was.

"Hi Nicky, sorry I'm late," Grissom said, shutting the door behind him. "Tiffany brought a prototype shoe print kit with her and was showing me how to use it. She says it'll be on the market within a year and will ensure we get one."

"It's cool, Gris, I only just got here myself," Nick replied. "Any new breaks in the case?"

"A few, Sara and Tiffany are tracking some possible leads so I could come talk with you," Grissom said. "But this still isn't the place to talk. Come on; let's go get some breakfast before anyone catches me."

"Breakfast?" Nick was puzzled and even more nervous. He could barely remember the last time Grissom went out with anyone from work. The man was reclusive, almost paranoid about his away from work time.

"Yeah, or dinner, if you prefer," Grissom said. "I know a great restaurant where a lot of entomologists go; they have bugs of all genii on the menu. Their cricket sauce is to die for."

Nick stopped dead in the middle of the office, staring at his boss. He knew Grissom kept chocolate covered grasshoppers in his lab fridge but now he was suddenly wondering about the man's sanity. Nick wasn't sure if he should laugh or run.

Grissom noticed the silence, turned back and almost started laughing at the faint green tinge Nick's face had taken. "Nicky, I'm kidding," he said. "Let's go somewhere private so we won't be disturbed or disturb anyone if you want to yell at me again."  
********************

"Uh, Gris, this is your place," Nick said as the door closed behind him.

"It would have been rude of me to invite myself into your home, Nick, so this was the most logical solution," Grissom replied. He made sure the door was locked before hanging up his jacket. "Would you like some coffee?"

"Sure," Nick said, feeling more and more confused. He followed his boss through the living room and into the kitchen. The town house was so Spartan compared to his own, but Nick knew anything Grissom cared about enough to surround himself with meant a great deal to the enigmatic man. "Gris, why are we here?"

Grissom looked up from the fridge. "Would you prefer the religious, philosophical, evolutionary or practical answer?" he asked, blue eyes twinkling.

"Do you ever give anyone a straight answer?" 

"Yes." Grissom shut the door to the fridge and moved over to the counter. He put down the carton of eggs, milk and block of cheese.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

"Probably," Grissom said. "Please, sit down, Nicky. We need to talk and I'm just sorry I didn't realize it on my own."

The house was so obviously furnished for one that Nick wasn't sure exactly where he should sit. Finally he compromised and pulled the stool from the work table over to the island in the kitchen. "What are you talking about, Gris?"

"Tiffany had a talk with me when the two of you returned from the crime scene," Grissom admitted. "She told me you're ready to quit because I tested you without explaining what I was doing. The investigation isn't the only thing she opened last night."

"Hey, Gris, man, I'm not going to quit on you," Nick said. "I don't know why she would tell you something like that."

"There are more ways to quit than simply walking away," Grissom said. "If you feel that I've insulted your intelligence you could quit thinking things through, thinking outside the box or challenging me on cases. Nick, I know I'm no good with people but I'm going to try and explain exactly what I was hoping you'd figure out from that riddle."

Nick sipped his coffee and watched his boss. This was a side of the normally reserved man he'd never seen before and wondered if anyone ever had.

"Of all my CSIs, Nick, you have the most potential, skills and intuition but," Grissom looked over from the stove, "you tend to see the most obvious answer and develop tunnel vision. The silk riddle is a way to teach people to think things through before they answer, however, most give the same answer you did. Even Catherine did, years ago, when I first told it to her."

"But you said I'm not ready to work DBs solo," Nick protested. "Everyone else is allowed to, why not me?"

"Nicky, have you ever done anything just for yourself?" Grissom asked. "I'm not talking about little things; I mean a large life choice."

"Yes," Nick replied, not sure where that question had come from.

"What?" Grissom put two cheese omelets on the counter. "Would you like some fruit or juice?"

The younger man smiled. "Y'know, Gris, I fell like one of your suspects," he said. "I know I disappointed you somehow and that's why you're holding me back. And no, thank you, this is fine."

Grissom sighed and wondered, not for the first time, why people were so dense. The answers were so clear to him; he wondered why everyone else seemed to miss them.

"Nicky, the only way you could ever disappoint me is if you gave up," Grissom said. "It may seem to be otherwise at times but that's me frustrated because I may see an answer you don't and simply want you to work it out for yourself. I see so much potential in you, Nick, and want to help you develop it the best way I can."

"And your reasoning for not letting me solo on DBs?"

"I don't know that there is one reason," Grissom replied. "But my main concern is that you only want to impress me. I am impressed, Nicky, more than I can possibly tell you. You've got a way with people that's almost magical and if you can hone your skills and instincts in the field, you'll be a better CSI than I am."

Nick sat and ate and thought for a few minutes. Of all the different directions the morning could have gone, he hadn't even considered this one. Grissom seemed more human at that moment than he ever had before and Nick liked it, a lot. He didn't know what it was that made his boss so reserved but wished Grissom would trust him enough to open up a little. Maybe it was time to play a hunch.

"Tiffany's not just an expert brought in for this case," Nick said, watching Grissom closely.

"Why do you say that?"

"I've been thinking about her mannerisms and attitude and I've never met a detective with that air of authority," Nick replied. "She's used to giving orders and having them obeyed without question."

"She's also a mother," Grissom tossed out, impressed.

"Nah, any good mom don't have to use that kind of attitude with their kids," Nick said. "Tiffany's in a position of power, so what's she doing in Vegas in our labs?"

Grissom smiled the small, enigmatic smile that drove his coworkers crazy. "I'll concede the point but the rest is confidential until she reveals it," he said. "But it looks like we'll all have some reviewing to do on crime scenes when children are involved."

"Gris, you said it yourself, you can't be everywhere and Sara really needed that help with those bugs," Nick said. "The rest of us did the best we could with what we know. So we got stuck, you found someone who knew how to look deeper in other ways that we didn't."

*And that* Grissom thought with a small sigh, *is why blind trust and hero worship are such bad things in a CSI lab*  
********************

"So you're telling me we missed two major pieces of evidence," Sara said, looking over Tiffany's shoulder at some printouts from Greg.

"The undersides of both mattresses," Tiffany replied. "It was obvious, to me; the scene had been staged before the police were called. I suppose I've just seen too many crime scenes like this in my life."

"But how did you know the beds were flipped?" Sara asked. "They were totally made up and our victims were in them."

Tiffany nodded and pulled out a picture. "See how tightly the sheets are pulled at the foot of the bed around their feet and how neat the covers are? There's no way these beds were slept in; sexual molestation is the only reason I could think of to remake a bed around a victim so I played a hunch."

"I never would have thought of that."

"You learn some pretty nasty things when you work juvi," Tiffany sighed. "And one of those is how to put the victims out of your mind until the case is over. If you don't you'll go crazy."

"We have to call Grissom," Sara said. "He needs to know what we've learned."

"It can wait until tonight," Tiffany replied. "The other children are out of the house and there's enough evidence to bring the parents in for questioning. We should get some sleep so we'll be awake and focused when we face them."

Sara paused, phone in her hand. "The sheriff is pushing to have this case solved."

"Exactly, and if we make a mistake, then what?" Tiffany asked. "Catch Dr. Grissom when he comes in tonight and go from there. Don't rush just because the politicians are pushing you to."  
********************

"I should get home," Nick said. "Thanks for breakfast, Gris."

"You never answered my question."

Nick blinked. "Which one?"

"Have you ever done anything just for yourself?"

"I told you I have," Nick replied, smiling. "Thanks for taking the time to straighten me out, Gris. I'm feeling a lot better now."

"You're welcome, Nicky. I'm only sorry it took a stranger to show me how much you were hurting. I should have realized it myself. And don't make excuses for me; I should have noticed something was wrong."

"As you pointed out not too long ago, no one's perfect," Nick said. "Gris, there is something I'd like to do, just for me, that might end up as a present for someone else too."

"What's that, Nicky?" Grissom asked.

Before he could lose his nerve, Nick stepped in close to Grissom. He wrapped one hand around behind Grissom's head, fingers tangling in the graying curls, the other rested gently on Grissom's chest. Nick leaned in and kissed Grissom gently. When the other man didn't pull away, Nick deepened the kiss, silently requesting and receiving permission; Grissom's mouth tasted of the cheese omelet and coffee and just a hint of chocolate, probably from his grasshoppers at work.

Nick reluctantly broke the kiss and stared into his boss's glazed eyes for a moment. "I'll see you tonight, Gris."


	7. Chapter 7

Loud knocking on the door of her hotel room jarred Tiffany awake a couple of hours after she crashed. She was surprised she woke up; Tiffany suffered from a medical condition that left her exhausted most of the time. With a small sigh, she slipped on her blue silk robe and went to the door.

"Dr. Grissom, what bring you by this time of the day?" she asked, closing the door behind him. "What's wrong?"

"I've never spoken to another living soul about my personal life," he replied, pacing. "I'm a very private man. I make sure that no one has a chance to know me too well."

"But there's a first time for everything," Tiffany interrupted. She sat down on the bed and studied the man in front of her. "Let me tell you a story, Dr. Grissom. There was once a young woman who was abandoned by her parents and unofficially adopted by a strange recluse who lived in the hills by her town. When she was ten she was forced to move halfway around the world and could only talk to her mentor and unofficial father via letters. She was abused and also neglected by her foster parents and finally ran away from home when she was sixteen."

"Is this you?" Grissom asked.

"No; she met her first boyfriend when she was twenty-three and they dated for more than three years. During this time she was abused both physically and mentally by both her boyfriend and a once trusted karate instructor," Tiffany continued. "She withdrew into herself, only talking when she absolutely had to. Then, when she was thirty, she met a young man who wasn't much older than she was and seemed really nice. But she'd been hurt too many times to even consider letting anyone close to her again. Her defenses were up and it took the man three years to gain her trust. They've been married five years and I know for a fact that she's glad she took that final chance."

"So who is this young woman?" Grissom asked, interested.

"My twin, Fire Chief Lexxie Scott," Tiffany replied. "The point I'm trying to make is that no one can hide behind their walls forever."

"Nick kissed me," Grissom blurted, almost embarrassed.

Tiffany sighed. "To quote Lexxie's and my favorite TV show, yeah, and, so, but, therefore?"

"Why?"

"Well, having not been there and observed the kiss or the events leading up to it, I'd have to conjecture that he's attracted to you and wanted to let you know," Tiffany said. "Why tell a complete stranger this?"

"I don't know, you seem to understand me without trying," Grissom said. "There's no one else I can even consider talking to and I need advice. For the first time in as long as I can recall, I'm completely lost."

"Gil," Tiffany said gently, "the one you need to talk to is Nick. It's obvious he feels something for you and, for him to take this large a risk, it has to be more than friendship or hero worship. Figure out what your feelings are for him and then be honest."

He stared at her, the use of his first name obviously surprising him. "You don't think there's anything wrong with it?" he asked.

"Some of my best friends are gay," Tiffany replied. "That's one thing I hate about my employer; the government is always telling people how they should love. I say live and let live."

"What should I tell Nick?"

"Well, if you enjoyed the kiss, how about pucker up?" Tiffany asked, raising an eyebrow. She smiled at his reaction. "Okay, then how about asking him out for dinner when you get off work tonight and see what happens. If you didn't enjoy....oh, never mind."

Grissom was blushing. He knew he was blushing and he absolutely hated it. He wasn't even sure why he was telling Tiffany any of this but he needed a sounding board, someone he could trust and for some reason, this rather reserved federal agent fit. He'd never even considered that he couldn't trust her. "What about your interviews?" he asked, trying to regain his mental footing.

"Tonight," Tiffany replied. "Its gone noon and you'll be a wreck if you don't get some sleep."

He nodded and moved towards the door. "I don't recognize the quote."

"Stargate SG-1, season three, Deadman's Swtich," Tiffany said. "Colonel Jack O'Neill to Major Sam Cater. Lexxie and I actually switched a few words around so it's easier to say. The actual quote is, 'and, but, so, therefore'?"

"I've never seen the show," Grissom said.

"I'll tell you all about it tonight." Tiffany made shooing motions with her hands. "Go home and sleep or at least rest. You've got a big night coming up in a few hours."  
********************

Nick was nervous to the point of shaking as he walked into work after a sleepless day. He didn't know what had possessed him at actually kiss Gil Grissom. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the time but now all the self-doubts were staring to return and he wasn't sure if he still had a job.

"Hi Nicky," Grissom said, stopping him in the hall. "We've obtained warrants for questioning both parents and also to search their house again."

"That's great, Gris," Nick replied, mentally waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"So I want you to lead the teams at the scene," Grissom continued. "Take Warrick and Sara with you."

"Uh, Gris, you feeling all right?"

Grissom looked up from the folder he was reading. "I feel fine, Nick, although I'd like to finish what we started earlier."

"Are you talking about....?"

"Let's just say you didn't have to leave," Grissom replied. "Go on out to the house, Nick. You know what to look for but keep in mind that the original scene was staged."

"Yeah, question everything," Nick said, smiling. "I won't let you down, Gris."

"I know you won't," Grissom said. "You know how to do your job."

Nick leaned closer. "Actually, Gris, I wasn't talking about work."

"Neither was I, but Sara's coming down the hall," Grissom replied, smiling his smug smile. "I'll be with Brass and Tiffany talking with the parents so call Catherine if you need anything."  
********************

Tiffany was already at the table in the interrogation room when Grissom and Brass arrived. She was wearing a pale blue t-shirt, black jeans and blue tevas. "I'm sorry for the casual clothes but I'm not feeling that great," Tiffany said. "I think it's the heat."

"You're unofficial," Grissom replied. "As far as I understand that means you can dress how you want." He perched on the table near the mirrored glass.

"Truthfully I couldn't make my fingers work to fasten any buttons," Tiffany said. "So as far as me taking notes tonight..."

Brass rolled his eyes. "Only you would find a sick consultant," he commented to Grissom.

The room went so silent that even the air conditioner shut off as if it was embarrassed to be making so much noise. Tiffany used the table to support her weight as she stood and grabbed her cane. "Captain Brass," said she, almost hissing. "Until this point I have heard naught but good things about you. However, if you are going to judge without full knowledge of the facts then I have no use for you." Her ice blue eyes were hard as she advanced slowly on the stunned man. "The term to best describe my condition is not sick, it is disabled; a fact of which I do not normally inform people upon our first meeting. My condition has no bearing on this case other than I am unable to write so if you had let me finish, I was going to ask if we could have a stenographer or record the interrogation. But since you are so quick to judge maybe you don't need me here, maybe you can solve the bloody case on your own."

Grissom stared at the federal agent in shock. He had wondered why she carried a cane at so young an age but her symptoms all mirrored a gun shot wound so he tried not to assume. But he was impressed. When he got mad he let go of his anger quickly and generally at Ecklie or the sheriff. But Tiffany took her anger and turned it into a weapon; it was an education to watch her.

"Are you such an expert, Captain, that you know all the answers?" Tiffany asked. "Because if you do then you are better than anyone in this building because knowing everything makes you god." She looked over at Grissom and her eyes softened a little. "Since I'm obviously not required here, Dr. Grissom, I'll be in the labs. I asked young Sanders for a favor. I may be back."

She slammed out of the room before either man could say a word. Finally Brass took a deep breath and looked over at his friend. "What was that all about?"

"Well Jim, I'd say you just put your foot in your mouth," Grissom said. "And we do actually need Tiffany in here because she's the one who brought us to this point. Maybe if you grovel a bit she'll forgive you and we can get started."

"Gil, did you know she was disabled?"

"No I didn't," Grissom replied. "This is why it's so important to treat everyone the same and not make assumptions. I'd have been happy to be the note-taker."

"What do you know that I don't?"

Grissom's head twitched to the right. "Now there's a hole with no bottom."


	8. Chapter 8

"Tiffany, I have that run for you," Greg called when he saw her stalking down the halls.

The woman took a visible breath, let it out slowly and turned to the young DNA analyst. He reminded her of herself not so long ago. "Thank you, Greg," she said. "Was I right?"

"Yep and I never would've thought to check it," Greg replied. He straightened his tri-shade green shirt. "Who are you going to tell? I mean, this is really serious."

"Yes it is and I have some contacts," Tiffany said. "Thanks again, Greg. I know I don't have to tell you this is highly confidential at this point."

"Mmphs, the word."

"Tiffany," Grissom said softly behind her, "you know we really do need you in there."

She folded the lab report she was holding and turned to look at a man she'd love to steal for her own labs. Grissom was almost perfect federal material, not that she'd tell him that."

"It seems Captain Brass disagrees," she said. "I've never gone where I'm not wanted on any investigation once it moved into a station."

"I'm not going to beg," Grissom said. "Brass is old school, he still judges based on appearances but he doesn't mean any harm. I'm not sure what questions to ask as you're the one who ultimately solved this case."

"You under-estimate yourself, Dr. Grissom," Tiffany said. She sighed and leaned back against the wall. "Have you heard of fibromyalgia?"

Grissom tilted his head to the right. "It's a disease of the soft tissues, mainly, but it ultimately affects everything."

"It's more than that," Tiffany said. "Imagine living every day with pain so intense that a root canal feels like a light pinch. Then throw in weakness, physical exhaustion, upset stomachs, memory problems and maybe you'll begin to understand how I feel."

"And you're an active federal agent?" Grissom asked.

"I ride a desk unless something like this crops up," Tiffany replied. "It was my mind they wanted and the president was willing to overlook a few physical problems as long as I'm not in the field. However," she used the cane to pull someone out of a dark corner, "there are a few compensations. Hello, Miss Sidle. Eavesdropping is a nasty habit to fall into."

"Sara," Grissom said, "you're supposed to be out with Nick."

"I forgot something," Sara said. "A fed, huh, that explains why you were so keen to keep information from Grissom. You want this case all to yourself."

Tiffany sighed and pushed herself off the wall. Grissom could tell how tired she was by the set of her shoulders but was impressed as she faced the shorter woman. "Not all federal agents seek personal acclaim," Tiffany said. "And you should not judge one by the many nor the group by one. As my cover is blown, Grissom, let me make a phone call and I'll face Brass long enough to question the parents. It seems I have no choices left in the matter."

Grissom watched as Tiffany limped down the hall before turning back to Sara. "You aren't to mention this to anyone," he said, his face extremely serious. "Tiffany is here on an entirely unrelated matter and you could well have ruined everything."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Sara demanded.

"Because it doesn't impact you," Grissom replied sternly. "I suggest you find whatever you forgot and head to the crime scene. And if I hear one word about who Tiffany really is, I'll know who said something."

"You like her, don't you?" Sara called after him.

He turned around. "That's out of line, but yes, I do," Grissom said. "She understands me."  
********************

Paul Miller was a fifty year old man with silvering brown hair and brown eyes. He was wearing a white polo shirt, black slacks and an extremely pissed off expression. His lawyer was one of those that Tiffany liked to call a prep; the eldest son who joined the family firm just to stay on daddy's good side. She didn't like lawyers in general but anyone who entered the practice for no other reason than keeping peace in the family was even worse.

"Mr. Miller, my name is Gil Grissom; this is Captain Jim Brass and Tiffany Franks," Grissom said, sitting at the table. "As you've probably guessed we're interpreted the evidence found at your home and we know not only how your daughters were killed but the other secrets your house was hiding."

"What are you talking about?" the lawyer snapped.

Tiffany pinned him with an icy look from the window where she was sitting out of the way. "Perhaps if you let the man finish then you'd know," she said. 

"We don't have to sit here and take this," the lawyer said.

"He's right," Sheriff Mobley said, shutting the door behind him. "Grissom, you've gone too far this time."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said mildly. "You ordered us to solve the homicide and we have."

"Then why are you harassing Paul?" Mobley demanded.

Tiffany lowered herself carefully to the floor and handed a folded piece of paper to Grissom before making her way to the door where she attached a small device to the door. "Mobley, you're under arrest," Tiffany said.

Everyone but Grissom started laughing. Tiffany sighed and suddenly her whole manner changed. "You think rape is funny?" she snapped. "You think it's funny to rape children? Oh no, gentlemen, it's not funny at all. Allow me to introduce myself, formally; Chief Tiffany Franks of the IBI. It seems not everyone under your command, Mobley, is happy with you or your policies."

"Jim, she's got the evidence to back her accusation," Grissom said. "The unknown seminal DNA from the crime scene matches Mobley. How did you know?"

"I played a hunch," Tiffany replied. "I've seen some well staged crime scenes in my career but that one screamed police involvement. Maybe I'm just a suspicious bastard but I tend not to trust first impressions."

Mobley lunged for the door, grabbed the knob and flew back, landing at Tiffany's feet. She smiled grimly. "I thought you might try and run and I don't move nearly as fast as I used to," Tiffany said. "That's my insurance against flight. Its fingerprint coded so I'm the only one who can remove it. Now why don't you sit down and play nice?"

"Uh, Chief Franks?" Brass said.

"Yes?"

"Isn't this unlawful imprisonment?"

Tiffany turned and looked directly at Brass. "This is prevention of flight," she said seriously. "Tell me the truth, Captain, how many officers would stop their boss leaving the building? This is not the first corruption case I've worked. But if you'll get on the cell phone and notify four officers you trust then I'll remove the device."

"You'll do it anyway," Mobley said, drawing his gun.

"Why is there always so much drama?" Tiffany asked. She hit the sheriff's wrist with her cane and kicked the gun away. "You gambled and you lost, now sit down before I lose my temper."

The lawyer cleared his throat. "Um, what charges are you planning to proffer?"

"Sexual molestation and rape of a minor, two counts," Tiffany replied. "Dr. Grissom has the relevant information."

"What about my girls' deaths?" Miller asked, speaking for the first time. 

"Oh, that was your wife," Tiffany replied. "I think she was removing her competition from the field but I won't know for sure until I actually talk with her."


	9. Chapter 9

"Hey Gris, did you know Tiffany's a fed?" Nick asked once they were back at Grissom's place for breakfast.

"Sara," Grissom sighed. "I told her to keep her mouth shut."

"She was really pissed about it," Nick said. "Sara kept saying that the feds were going to take all the credit in this case so there was no point in our processing the scene. She said it's not fair for us to do all the work and them to get all the credit."

Grissom sat down on his brown leather sofa with a sigh. "I don't know what to do about Sara. Maybe I'll just let Tiffany deal with her," he said. "But Tiffany was not here because of the homicide case."

"You knew?" Nick asked, sitting down next to his boss.

"Tiffany told me everything before she went out with you that night," Grissom admitted. "She gave me the option of working with her or not. You'll hear more about it soon, but I want an honest answer from you, Nick. Why did you kiss me?"

Nick blushed. "It just felt right," he said, looking at his hands. "I went home and couldn't sleep. I mean, I could see it in your eyes that you felt something afterwards but you've got such a barrier around you that it's so hard to penetrate that I didn't know how you felt."

"Have you ever been with another man?"

"No, but like I said, it just felt right," Nick said. "What about you, can you tell me what you're feeling?"

"Confused," Grissom replied. "He reached over and took Nick's left hand in his and started tracing random patterns on his palm. "I've never even considered looking at another man but you're right, Nicky, it did feel right. I actually went and talked with Tiffany and she basically said go for it."

"You don't think she'll try and use it against you?"

The older man shook his head. "The thought of not trusting her never even crossed my mind," Grissom said. "I got the feeling that Tiffany and I connected on a deeper level. If we decide to go forward with this, our secret is safe with her."

"There's no 'if' about it for me, Gris," Nick said. "I've never been so sure of my heart before. I want you."

"Do you know how many problems we could be creating for ourselves?" Grissom asked. "The least of them being our age difference; relationships between coworkers rarely work, especially when one of them is a supervisor."

"Gris, do I have to kiss you to shut you up?" Nick asked, smiling. "I think we'll be able to overcome any problems that pop up. I'm not scared of the future, unless you're not in it. I'd like to forget the past and just enjoy now, with you. I want to keep you for as long as you'll let me."

Grissom's head tilted to the right as he considered the young man sitting next to him. Coming to a decision, he stood and pulled Nick to his feet. "Then come with me and we'll learn together."  
********************

The bedroom was almost a twin of the living room. Nick got the impression that the room around Grissom didn't matter because he didn't really see it. That was the only explanation he could come up with to explain the sparseness of the man's home.

"So what do we do first?" Nick asked, looking at the man he trusted with his life and now, his heart.

"I'm not sure," Grissom replied. He took Nick's hand and ran a finger lightly over his wrist. "It's been a long time since I've had a partner in my bed or my life."

Nick smiled gently. "Then why don't we just get comfortable and see where it takes us," he said. "I guess we could take our shirts off, that way they won't get all tangled up."

Grissom thought for a moment before pulling his black polo over his head and then sitting on the edge of his queen bed. He was stunned at the turn his life was taking. He watched as Nick slipped out of his silver cowboy cut shirt and shivered as his lover....Grissom tasted the word silently and found he liked it.....joined him on the bed. He reached out and pulled Nick to him, their lips meeting in a soft kiss that deepened slowly, Grissom opening to Nick. They fell over onto the bed as the kiss grew more heated and more passionate.

"I don't have any supplies," Grissom whispered when Nick broke away to kiss down his neck. "And I don't think we're ready for anything that advanced anyway."

"So analytical," Nick muttered. He rolled them so he was on top, his weight pushing Grissom into the mattress. "So hot, you're perfect, Gris."

The older man groaned and thrust up against the hard body pressing against him. He couldn't believe how good it felt, how hot it was, how right it all was. Somehow, and Grissom was far from being a romantic, he'd managed to come home. He knew he'd hang onto Nick forever.


	10. Chapter 10

6 months later

Grissom opened his email and smiled when he saw one from Tiffany. The federal agent had suggested they stay in touch and Grissom had jumped at the chance. She'd been back twice to teach short courses on scene investigation when juveniles are involved and how to let the supervisor deal with the political cases, mainly to let the supervisor deal with it. She'd almost started laughing when Grissom raised an eyebrow and glared at her.

"What's made you so read?" Nick asked from the sofa.

"Tiff's letter," Grissom replied. "She's included a couple of fan fiction web pages that have explicit slash stories on them to help us out."

Nick laughed. "We should just adopt her as a sister and be done with it," he said. "She's not going to let up."

"But it might not hurt to look at the evidence presented," Grissom said. "I've got such a hot young partner; I've got to keep him happy so he doesn't leave me for someone else."

Nick stood and walked over to his lover. "Never, Gil, you're all I'll ever want."


End file.
